


[Interlude] Good Boy

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Homeward Bound [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Dom Stiles, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Puppy Play, Rough Sex, Sciles, Sub Scott, Sub Scott McCall, Teen Wolf AU, kinks already negotiated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief interlude set a few months in the future from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1543862">Little Talks</a>. Sometimes you just need a night of kinky sex with your best bro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Interlude] Good Boy

_[Text:] Do you want to do something tonight?_

Innocuous, discrete, just on the line of boring, but Stiles couldn’t get it off his mind. He remembered a time when that text would mean sitting around one of their houses as they tried to think up shit to do, but now, now it had him swallowing hard in the middle of a meeting, zoning off with wide eyes and hands that were too still as the last of their active cases were discussed.

It wasn’t a night out. Stiles got laughably specific when he got caught in spur of the moment things, and Scott always had moods he’d follow when he wanted to suggest something. It wasn’t a night in of mind-numbing television and lazy kisses and leftovers. It was - Stiles uncrossed and recrossed his legs.

He’d sent that text 27 minutes ago. Scott’s ‘yes’ came back two later. 

He made Scott wait. He lingered after the office was out, took twice as long as he needed to close up his projects, counted the fucking beats of his heart. He wanted to catch Scott unaware. Not unknowning, but unexpecting. And fuck, that was impossible with a werewolf. He still drove home past the speed limit, and if it took him two tries to unlock the apartment, well, no one would fault him if they knew. 

For Scott, the waiting that was the worst part.  He beamed at his co-workers at the animal shelter and skillfully deflected the attentions of the women who came to volunteer or to pick out a new pet with a charming smile and sensitivity. He never wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings, even when they toed the line, to the endless amusement of his co-workers who never failed to tease him good-naturedly about the not so subtle advances. If there was the slightest tremor to his hands, no one seemed to notice as he waved goodnight.

Scott got home first, kicking off his shoes and taking care of all those little things Stiles never noticed but made life just a little easier. He straightened the living room, made sure there was something set for dinner and made himself a mug of tea as he curled up on the couch to watch television.  Everything was perfect, safe and comfortable as he dozed contentedly on the pillows. Some days it was hard to accept how far they’d come to get here and how they fought for every step, but he never forgot how lucky he was to have this. A home, a family, his best friend who loved him and the promise of tonight. An ordinary, completely not special, regular day that caused his stomach to knot in quiet anticipation.

Stiles’s gaze found Scott’s before he could enter the room, and his heart did that thing where it tried to jump out of his chest. He knew he looked ridiculous, grinning like he was trying to split his face in two. Scott was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever known. He wanted to wreck him.

The detective toed off his shoes with deliberate care, lining them along the door like he could buy time for his skittering pulse. There was tension in the air, so thick he could cut through it, but it made him brave. It curled the corners of his smile into something more calculated. Stiles was always selfish. 

Scott watched Stiles mutely with a needy kind of anticipation as he slipped from his relaxed sprawl on the coach. He trusted Stiles, he loved him and knew he was completely safe, but there was always that small thrill of fear when the human’s voice dropped low and commanding. Scott didn’t know if Stiles was even aware of it, the way his ticks and restless movements would become suddenly still and the wolf just _knew_ what was coming.

The human snapped long fingers, calling his pet to his feet with practiced ease. He licked his lips, but his tone was even. “Kneel.”

Scott moved carefully towards his master, bare feet silent and body tight with nervous energy before he sank down to his knees in the middle of the floor. He kept his head bowed, eyes on the floor, the beast inside of him already resisting the show of submission. He wasn’t sure what the rules were, careful until he was he was given instructions.

Fidgeting slightly, he finally flicked his eyes upwards to watch Stiles. “What do you want me to do?”

"Good boy," Stiles whispered, like a secret, so soft only Scott could here, and there was that - that scene they built together. Stiles could still remember the first afternoon he brought it up, how they ironed out the details, how he’d buzzed with nervous energy the entire time and then after. The first time they tried this, anxious but excited, it had fallen apart because Stiles couldn’t keep to script, but Scott had felt so good around him. He’d laughed with bliss even though he was so turned on he couldn’t walk straight. 

The second time was better, then the next, and the next… Stiles swallowed audibly. The rules shifted sometimes, but some things stayed the same. Scott on his knees, Scott pliant and obedient - yeah, those stayed the same.

"Don’t talk," he commanded. "Not unless I’m inside you. That’s it." 

He waited, needing Scott to confirm what they were doing, even as they slipped into roles. When Scott did, he pulled hard on dark locks, forcing his gaze upwards. “Get your collar.” 

The wolf gave a shallow nod, gasping quietly as his head was jerked backwards and stared up at Stiles with wide, dark eyes. He trembled faintly as he surrendered control. It was something they’d worked on together, rewriting the memories etched into his mind by his captivity and turning the things he’d been trained to enjoy into something safe and loving instead of something sick. He didn’t have to feel guilty for this, not with Stiles. For a man who always took on the worries and pain of others, giving himself completely to someone else, even for a brief time, felt almost liberating.

He smiled a little, waiting until he was released before crawling on hands and knees to the dresser. Stiles hadn’t given him permission to stand and he wanted to obey, falling into his role with ease.  He groped through the drawer, pulling out the leather collar and lead clipped to it with a small metal ring. Crawling back to his human, he held out the collar, sitting up on his knees like he was begging. Scott tipped his head back to expose his throat, waiting to be leashed.

Stiles traced the soft curves of Scott’s mouth with his thumb, a ragged breath hinting at how far he’d fallen. When Scott moved he watched the lines of his body, the peek of tanned skin beneath cloth making his world spin. He wanted that. He wanted all of that.

"Good boy," he rasped, running his fingers through Scott’s hair when he returned, grinning in a way that showed too much teeth.

The collar was part of a set, something they’d ordered online because Stiles wasn’t willing to drive out of town to buy it in person and the storekeeper at the place downtown always stared at Scott for too long. It fit snug around Scott’s throat, and Stiles tugged on its ring under the guise of testing it before he wound the leash around his knuckles. It had come with a pair of black ears, as close to the color of his werewolf’s hair as they could manage, but they both kind of lost it at that, practically howling with laughter the first time they saw it. Stiles was pretty sure it had ended up in some kid’s basket when they were entertaining Trick or Treaters on Halloween.

Stiles wasn’t thinking about Halloween now. 

"Strip." He ordered. "Don’t get up. Take off my pants." 

The collar settled some restless part of Scott, making him feel owned and powerless. He loved the feeling, the way it washed away all of his worries and left him humming with anticipation. Sometimes he’d take the collar and wear it under his shirt, making sure no one at work would be able to see. A little thrilling secret that kept him on edge, reminding him who he belonged to and waiting with barely concealed eagerness to see Stiles again.

Scott kept his eyes on his master, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as he hurried to undo them and shrug his shirt from his shoulders. Pants came next until he settled back on his knees, naked and already hard. He knew better than to touch himself, not until he was told he could.

Solid muscle moved under soft caramel skin as he leaned forward, nuzzling carefully at Stiles’s hip and hooked his fingers into the edge of the Detective’s pants. He undid the belt, letting the buckle jangle as Scott worked the zipper down with his teeth. He slid Stiles’s pants down, leaving him bare and growling softly as he tried to resisting putting his mouth on the human’s skin. There was so much tanned skin, smooth like velvet beneath Stiles’s palms, his to touch, his to explore. It was the most tempting display, making Stiles’ mouth go dry before his cock sprung from its confines. The wolf squirmed, patience never his strongest suit. Stiles hushed Scott, pressing a finger to soft lips before dragging it up the line of his wolf’s jaw and up the hollow of his throat. Blunt nails scratched up Scott’s neck before he tugged insistently at his partner’s hair, controlling exactly where he looked.

Stiles moved forward, the long line of his shaft pressing against Scott’s jaw and mouth, his cheeks and the strong bridge of nose. There was a dresser behind him, just close enough that Stiles didn’t have to strain to reach for a bottle of lube. He never broke rhythm, rubbing his throbbing cock against his partner’s face. 

"Slick yourself open. I’m gonna fuck your pretty mouth, Scott."

Scott was intently focused, trying to anticipate his master’s needs. Anything to make him happy. He preened under the praise, nuzzling against Stiles’s length as his tongue darting between his lips to give the human one quick lick. If he’d been allowed to speak, he’d have been begging to feel the human’s cock heavy in his mouth. To be fucked hard against the back of his throat until Stiles came all over his face. All he could do was whimper quietly, wishing he could wrap his hands around his own neglected cock.

He took the offered bottle, eyes watching Stiles as he drizzled the lube on his fingers. He couldn’t keep from moaning as he slid one slicked finger around his hole, teasing himself before pushing inside. He couldn’t reach as deep as he liked, but he always enjoyed the feeling of being filled and he worked himself slowly, trying to make sure that his master enjoyed the show. It would be so much better with Stiles’s long fingers inside of him, with his cock fucking him deep and hard.

He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his lips around Stiles, too impatient to taste him. The wolf urged him deeper, tongue lapping eagerly at the head and damn, Stiles could watch that for hours. Scott stretching himself on his skilled fingers, working himself open, moaning like he couldn’t believe it. He loved it when Scott was loud, shameless and eager in his ecstasy. He loved forcing him to be quiet, watching him struggle to keep every urge in, like the effort would make him fall apart before Stiles could get his hands on him and damn that felt good that felt so hot so good so -

“ _No._ " Stiles snapped, voice gravel rough and vicious. A sharp tug on his lead forced Scott’s head back with a snap, making him gag on his collar. Scott gasped and choked as he was yanked back, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. His body went ridged, but he didn’t fight back, accepting his punishment. Stiles shortened his hold on the leash, wrapping it around his palm and keeping Scott locked in place. He gripped his wolf by the jaw, forcing him to open his mouth. 

"I didn’t say you could play." 

Scott looked like he’d stepped out of a wet dream. Stiles never wanted to keep him waiting. He thrust into his mouth, eyes falling shut as slick wet heat engulfed him. The wolf whimpered again as his jaw was forced open, struggling to breathe as Stiles suddenly fucked into his throat. Stiles canted his hips, pace demanding while slender fingers tangled in dark locks, keeping Scott in place as his balls slapped against his jaw. And fuck, if punishment never felt so good. Scott tried to relax his muscles, letting his master’s cock hit the back of his throat with practiced skill. Dark spots danced across his vision and he loved it, being used and punished and adored all at once. It left him dizzy with the need for it.

He thrust into himself with his fingers, the angle wrong to hit his prostate but loving the feeling of being fucked from both ends. It was so difficult to keep his hands from touching his own cock, aching with need as Stiles held him still. His hips rocked uselessly, middle finger finally brushing that spot inside of him that send a shudder racing through his entire body. His head was full of white noise, it was impossible to think. His entire body was one raw exposed nerve, overwhelmed. It took all of his self-control not to moan, trying so hard to obey and keep himself silent. _Please, please please_. Every part of him begged for more.

Stiles would have swam to the ends of the Earth to hear the way he whimpered. He was so, so glad Scott let him stay here.

Scott’s mouth left him delirious, the wanton squelch of skin on skin sending shivers up his spine every time. His hands had settled around Scott’s throat, imagining they could feel his cock slide down hiss tongue but catching every gasp, ever shudder. Scott looked like he was in utter bliss, a dark flush painting his cheeks, tears clinging to long lashes. Stiles thought he was beautiful when he cried. This was the only way he’d want Scott to.

He pulled out with an obscene pop, trailing saliva and precum down Scott’s bruised lips. For a moment, Stiles couldn’t move, drinking in the sight like a starved man with his first meal. He couldn’t stop the ragged groan that ripped through him. Scott looked so good with leather around his neck. The werewolf gasped for air like he’d been drowning, body sagging and pulling against the taut lead around his neck. His tongue darted between swollen lips to lick the glistening liquid strands that dripped down to his chin. He brought his hand to his face, catching the drips and sucking on his fingers as he looked up at his master.

"Face down. Ass up." He ordered, words slurring in haste. Scott obeyed, resting his weight on his forearms and dropped his head until it almost rested on the floor, ass up on the air. Staying silent was the hardest part, he’d always been so vocal and it took so much of his concentration not to slip. Stiles knelt behind his werewolf, broad hands slapping his behind with a satisfying smack. The motion was jerky, clumsier than he intended, but Stiles smoothed his palms down soft flesh, kneading as he spread his cheeks. Lube dripped down his entrance, and Stiles caught it on his tongue. Scott jerked forward with a hiss, clamping his mouth shut as the words threatened to spill from his lips when Stiles smacked him. His whole body shivered as teeth and tongue teased his hole, hands spasming against the floor as he tried to find something to hold on to.

"God, Scott, do you know how good you look?" He whispered, nose brushing  against his slicked skin. His teeth grazed the swell of his ass. "Such a good boy for me, Scotty, such a greedy boy…" The wolf loved it when Stiles used that tone. Commanding and authoritative, just this side of dangerous but a little ragged like Scott was making him fall apart around the edges. There was a little burst of pride at the thought that he could make his love so happy. It never ceased to amaze him that Stiles had wanted him and had been so willing to fight for this. They’d always been friends, that had never been in question, but sometimes Scott was just stunned at how lucky he was to end up with his best friend as something much more. And fuck, he’d do anything for him.

Stiles was still crooning as he covered Scott with his body, and the head of his cock pressed into his werewolf’s hole.

There was no way to take this anymore, it was torture and the wolf needed _more_. He pushed back, trying to force the human deeper, desperate for him to move. He gave a wordless whine of frustration.

Stiles tugged on his collar, forcing Scott’s head back. He drove himself deeper and deeper, like he was trying to sweep Scott across the floor. His fingers walked up his wolf’s exposed throat, stroking the line of his pulse. Scott had earned this, the chance to be vulnerable without fear, without shame. When Stiles kissed him for the first time that night, it felt like everything right in the world.

He sighed into his partner’s mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he mouthed ‘I love you’ into kiss-bruised lips. His hands encircled Scott’s waist, settling on his hip and between his thighs. He stroked Scott’s shaft, smearing cum all across his leaking head, trailing down hard flesh like he wanted to soothe an ache.

He was panting when he pulled away, smile utterly besotted as he fought for each breath. It hid the wicked gleam in his eye that only sharpened as he squeezed hard on Scott’s hanging balls. He rolled his hips, trying to drag a groan out of Scott, wanting to push him over the edge despite their carefully stressed rules - because of them. He slammed into his lover, jackrabbit quick, like he wanted to break Scott. The pace was maddening, so tight, so fast, heat pooling at the base of his belly all over again, and Stiles didn’t know how he lasted, but damn, every minute he fought for was worth the effort.

Scott was falling apart, thoughts scattered and unfocused as Stiles pounded into him. He swallowed the words pressed silently into his mouth, kissing back with an eager desperation. He wasn’t allowed to say he loved Stiles, he could only show it in the way his body writhed and muffled pleading gasps. Stiles filled him like nothing else could. This was being complete, being owned and dominated and thoroughly, utterly debauched. All he existed for in his moment was for Stiles’s pleasure and it was perfect.

He bucked forward as the human’s hand stroked him, biting his lip hard enough to bleed to keep himself from keening. He could barely keep himself from the edge as Stiles worked his body like an expert. He knew exactly how to break Scott down and make him love every moment of it. The yelp tore itself free from his throat as Stiles squeezed and his control slipped away.

“ _Please!!!”_ Scott sobbed, body shaking as tears streaked down his face. He wasn’t allowed to cum, he knew he had to wait but it was almost impossible to stop himself from losing it with Stiles’s cock fucking him so hard it almost hurt. “Stiles…. _MASTER_ , please!” He begged for release, moaning wantonly. Scott’s hands reached back to grab at the human’s hips, arching his body until his spine bowed and his breathing caught.

Scott’s voice, oh fuck his voice his voice. Dulcet tones left hoarse and wrecked and Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself. He threw his head back, groaning in obscene desire. Pleasure dragged heat through his senses, swallowing him whole and leaving him to drown in it. 

 _Master_ spun through Stiles’s thoughts, what once spelled a curse, but now felt like a blessing. It was overwhelming in the best way. All he could feel was Scott, thrumming beneath his skin until he couldn’t tell where his body ended and his wolf’s began. He licked tears off his lover’s face, moaning like he was being torn apart, hips stuttering as control slipped from his fingers.

The world narrowed down to the slide of Stiles’s cock, the feel of his hands and the unbearable ache in Scott’s own groin. Precum dribbled from his slit, dripping down to the hardwood floor and dick so hard it hurt. Stiles kept hitting his prostate with each quick, deep thrust and Scott’s frantic little noises grew louder every time the feeling jolted through his nerves.

Stiles came with a silent scream, blunt, human teeth digging into Scott’s shoulder, still strong enough to draw blood. His hands dragged up his lover’s frame, at everything he hadn’t begun touching. He fucked him through his orgasm, draining he had nothing left to give.

His arms trembled as he pushed away from Scott, and his hand through sweat-kissed locks. “On your back,” he commanded, and he couldn’t recognize his own voice. “Come for me.”

Scott almost came when Stiles bit down on his shoulder, the pain and pleasure mixing until he forgot where he was. Scott whimpered as Stiles pulled back, dropping down to his hands and knees and mourning the loss of his cock. He panted hard, dark skin gleaming with sweat and cum running slick down his thighs. He didn’t have to be told twice, rolling onto his back and wiggling like a happy dog. He dragged his hand across his chest, the other gripping his length and stroked hard. He didn’t need much, fucking up into his fist until his toes curled against the floor and he came hard enough to coat his chest and chin. “M-master!!” Scott stroked until everything was too sensitive, going limp with a sigh.

Stiles groaned like he’d been the one who’d come. He couldn’t stop looking. Scott was beautiful like this, features flushed, chest heaving, mouth utterly abused. Stiles plastered himself to his side, trying to reach as much skin as he could possibly touch without taking his eyes off his werewolf, his beautiful boy. He cradled Scott close, even if the ground was unforgiving and his back was cold. This was bliss.  This was perfect.

"Love you," he rasped, kissing the curve of Scott’s ear, nuzzling into damp locks. "I love you so much. My Scott so good so good I love you…" He dropped kisses on Scott’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose as he dragged his hand through the mess on his chest, practically purring with satisfaction. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, but his head was floating, and his arm had fallen asleep when he nudged his partner, words a soft hush like it was still recovering.

"Hey, Scott… Scene’s over. Can I take you to bed?"

Scott was completely calm and at peace the way he was after every one of their sessions. It didn’t matter what hurt or how bruised he’d be afterwards, surrendering completely to Stiles’s will always left him with a quiet sort of contentment, slightly disconnected from his own thoughts and drifting. He loved that his friend could make him feel this way without it turning into something cruel or shameful.

He curled his body against the other man, giving him a tired smile and preening under the praise. Eyes fluttered closed, lips parted slightly as Stiles touched him. There wasn’t any way to really describe the feeling or explain his need for this, rewriting all the horror with a firm but loving hand. “Love you.” The wolf mumbled the words, finding it a little difficult to speak in his current state.

The floor was hard and he was cold and damp, even with his higher core temperature. Scott shivered slightly, trying to share the warmth of Stiles’s skin. With the confirmation that their play had ended, he wrapped his hand around the back of his human’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss that was no less proprietary for all that he’d yielded.

"Thanks, dude. Bed sounds kind of awesome, not gonna lie."

Stiles hummed into the kiss. He felt like he’d just won something, like every hero that had ever triumphed against all odds and maybe that one guy who’d scored big in the lottery. Stiles was all those guys, but so much luckier. He scratched lightly at Scott’s belly, smearing cum into tufts of dark hair. So much luckier.

He kissed along Scott’s jaw, licking at spots he knew made a difference, and dropping a peck on the tip of his chin. “Leave eh’mess… I’ll take care’f it later.”

His arms were tight around Scott’s waist as he pulled them both to their feet, keeping them so close it was as if he wanted to step into Scott’s footsteps. He all but dropped Scott into their mattress, draping himself on top of him so he could kiss down his throat and shoulders, licking up wayward drops of cum, tasting sweat. “You were so good, Scott, I don’t know how to handle it.”

It took him five seconds to grab one of the water bottles they kept under their bed for exactly these purposes, but it was five seconds too many. He helped raise Scott’s head, urging him to drink with a steady hand. 

This part was nice, gentle and sweet as Scott being on his knees with a collar around his neck had been harsh. He loved it both, the humiliation and the appreciation, feeling the satisfaction of making Stiles happy settle into his bones. Scott wanted Stiles to break him down into a thousand pieces, leave him hurt and sobbing, and then put him back together even stronger. He leaned on his human without shame, letting Stiles take the weight until he could stretch back on their bed. Scott gave a quiet moan, wrapping his arms around his love and dragging careful fingertips down the muscles of his back. Tired and sore as he was, even with the werewolf healing, his smile was brilliant and said everything he couldn’t find the words for. _I love you. Thank you for this. Thank you for knowing what I need. Thank you for letting me please you_.

Scott sipped the water gratefully, throat sore and swollen. Give it a few minutes and the feeling would fade, but he enjoyed the little aches and pains for as long as he could. The bite mark on his shoulder was slowly starting to bruise, skin broken enough to leave a smear of red and he let it stay. It didn’t take much concentration to keep from healing smaller wounds and it marked him as belonging to Stiles

Belatedly, Stiles tugged off his shirt, laughter a low rumble as he realized he was still wearing it. He poured clean water over a relatively clean sleeve, wiping what he could off of Scott’s belly.

"I tried to make it last," Stiles muttered, sort of apologetic, but it was hard to sustain when Scott was so close and everything smelled like sex and sweat and them. Mostly, he felt like a smug motherfucker. He kissed Scott slowly. "You were supposed to bring me dinner and walk around with that tail."

That tail was both equal parts ridiculous and amazing. Scott had once found Stiles curled around it, just petting it (‘Real dog hair, Scott.  _Real_ hair!’). Stiles had once made Scott cum on himself, hands bound, Stiles’ boxers draped over his nose and mouth as that tail hummed and buzzed inside him.

Scott’s eyes widened a little at the thought of using the tail. He thought it was silly at first, rolling his eyes but willing to try anything Stiles had been eager for, but holy fuck. The feel of it filling him, deep and vibrating and relentless was amazing. It was hard to focus on the commands when Stiles had him wear it, turning into a whimpering, begging mess. Something that turned the wolf into an obedient little dog.

The detective kissed across Scott’s broad shoulders, working his way down his chest to reach as far as he could without pulling away before making his way back up. “Oops…”

Stiles wondered, sometimes, if it bothered Scott. There were things Stiles couldn’t do, things he had trouble holding out on. The first time he’d insulted Scott during one of their scenes, it had sent a delicious thrill through his spine. That wasn’t enough to make him forgot that there had been monsters who’d used the same words with his werewolf, only they’d meant it. He remembered being angry. He remembered being furious. He remembered holding Scott so tight he left bruises across his hips, and mumbling, ‘I don’t want to do that again.’

“It was good. So fucking amazingly perfectly awesome.” Scott ran his hand slowly through Stiles’s hair, curving around his ear and smiling. He couldn’t be anything other than gentle in this afterglow, the beast inside of himself satiated and sleeping peacefully. It was moments like this, his most vulnerable and completely exposed that he felt the closest to human again.

Scott licked his lips, pulling himself out of the distracted, detached fog that accompanied the end of their scenes so he could think again. He stretched back, arms above his head and shameless. The world was steady, he was firmly grounded and in control, and he had been fucked within an inch of his life by a man he loved so fiercely it scared him sometimes. There was nothing to apologize for. “Next time.” He murmured, wicked gleam lighting in brown eyes. “We have all night, Stiles. I’ll be such a good dog, I promise.”

Stiles moaned, unable and unwilling to suppress the shudder that ripped through him. He curled in closer, occupying the spot Scott’s arms had so he could plaster himself to his partner’s side. He wanted to steal Scott’s warmth, roll in it and have it wash all over him.

“ _You’re_ amazingly perfectly awesome,” Stiles snickered, allowing himself an indulgent show of affection, and pulling Scott into a kiss with too much tongue and just the scratch of teeth. It was completely honest though. They just couldn’t handle that much sugar on a daily basis. 

He let his hands wander lower, touching the spot on Scott’s knee that pressure and friction had rubbed raw. The skin had almost returned to normal. Stiles wouldn’t let him leave their bed until ten minutes after that. Stealing some of Scott’s water, he suggested, “I wanna take you out on the town… We can do that - drive in shake place. Make out in the parking lot.”

"Yeah, tell me something I don’t know." Scott kissed his temple and grinned, tightening his arms around the other man. He gave a startled, filthy groan as he was kissed, biting down hard on Stiles’s lip and sucking the bruised flesh. His body bucked once, trying to respond but still recovering. Hissing softly as Stiles’s hands brushed against his scraped knee, he squirmed beneath him.

"Milkshakes?" He perked up like an excited puppy, never able to quite shake the habit. "I want strawberry and no making out until after milkshakes. Last time we got too carried away and everything melted before I had a chance to drink it. And no sharing! I love you, bro, and I know it’s supposed to be the old fashioned go-to romance thing, but I will literally poke you in the eyeball with a straw if you get anywhere close to mine."

Scott squirmed again, impatient and trying to get free, but not _really_ trying to escape. “I’m fine, let’s just go. I’m almost healed, it’ll be gone by the time we get there. You can’t just promise me ice cream and public make outs and then make me lie here forever. C’mon dude, I’m starving and I’m always up for making everyone around us completely uncomfortable with my tongue down your throat.”

 _Wanna go for walkies?_ Stiles’ mind provided unhelpfully. He cooed as aggravatingly as his tone could manage, and scratched Scott’s head, all the while wriggling into the best possible place to throw his weight around. Scott could still probably pick him up and throw him across the room, but he wouldn’t. That was kind of extremely hot.

"That a challenge, Wolf-boy? Got nerve for someone still covered in my spunk," Stiles snorted into Scott’s neck, teeth grazing the healing bruise on his partner’s shoulders, sucking hard and laving it with his tongue. It was Stiles’ favorite when the marks were like this, still dark enough for the world to see, but closed and probably unlikely to get infected, never mind that wolves probably couldn’t get infected, okay? Stiles didn’t want to beat the odds. If they were going to do that, it best be in the lottery.

"I’ll suck anything of yours that I want to," he proclaimed proudly. "Can’t catch this, dude. I’m gonna be all over you."

Scott gave Stiles a deadpanned stare before grunting in irritation. “Okay, then shower first and milkshakes after. I’m not going out in public covered in jizz, dude.” The bruise ached deep into his muscles and Scott gave a quiet moan, helpless to keep himself quiet. He liked the little scrapes and bruises, the pain giving all the pleasure a sharper edge. It was different than when he was in chains, there was a line between pain and agony, one that Stiles knew how to navigate. Purpled teeth marks, fingers gripped hard on his hips, his ass sore though handprints faded so quickly…he only wished he could keep the marks longer before they disappeared.

“I love you, Stiles and you get to suck most things, okay I admit that part’s true, but milkshakes, man. _Milkshakes_. If you want to put your lips on that, you’re going to have to really convince me. I might have to make you work for it.” He purred, trying to free himself. “Now let me up so I can get clean, I’m literally starving to death. I’m fine, trust me.”

"Convince you? That my sucking prowess will overwhelm your puny wolf brain with awesome? Doesn’t sound like much of a challenge, dude. You should convince me to let you up, and maybe I won’t steal your shake," Stiles scoffed, running his hands up Scott’s spine with the arrogant certainty that came with knowing his partner wasn’t going anywhere. He loved this. He loved how Scott said one thing, but the rest of him disagreed. He loved that they could tease each other about shit like this, and just know that no one was going to get hurt. They still had this, and he thought of hours they’d spent arguing over nothing, unable to remember what they’d discussed once they stopped, only that they’d gotten so caught up in it that the rest ceased to matter. 

He ran his fingers through Scott’s hair, nuzzling close as he dragged himself up the length of Scott’s body, rolling his hips like he wanted to remind them both of how easy this was. How good it could be.

"Carry me," he ordered, casually disregarding that every time Scott had done so in the past, he’d shrieked like a banshee. "We’ll shower. I’ll wash your back."

“Mmmm” Scott sighed, already convinced but he’d never admit it. Stiles could see right through his act, but a man had to hold on to a certain amount of pride even if he was lying. Only the promise of ice cream was enough to motivate him to move. If it was anything else, he’d have given it up in favor of staying tangled and naked and sticky until they both drifted off to sleep in the most awkwardly uncomfortable positions. Scott bit his lip to keep from moaning, completely distracted from the slide of Stiles against his body and the weight of him against his hips. So unfair…

The werewolf cracked open one eye and regarded his friend with a smirk. “I am not your pack mule, bro. Your legs still work.” He teased, but slid his hands beneath Stiles’s butt and sat up, hoisting the human up against his body like Stiles weighted nothing. Not much call these days for werewolf strength and it never hurt to remind his friend that even though he was taller and broader, Scott could still carry him with ease. Especially when it made him flail and swear indignantly.

He laughed and carried the human to the bathroom, kissing him all the while and accidentally bumping into the doorjam, the sink, the edge of the shower as he sucked a bruise into Stiles’s collarbone. “You’re not the only one with sucking prowess, don’t forget it.”

"No, you’re just my as-Scott what are you no. No. Scott no don’t! You fucking ass!" Stiles roared, overzealous and wild, and even if he still freaked out because feet were meant to stay on the ground (or in outer space, big difference), he knew Scott wouldn’t drop him. He didn’t know why they didn’t have more wall sex. Then Scott was kissing him, and he didn’t know much of anything else.

"No - no no no you suck big time, dude. You suck so much," he hissed through clenched teeth, but his legs had tightened around Scott’s waist, and even Stiles conceded that protests weren’t really protests when he was moving in to kiss the smile off his best friend’s face. And again, and _again_. 

He didn’t know how they didn’t fall into the bathtub, but Stiles wriggled his way out of Scott’s grip, spinning them around so he could press his werewolf into the wall’s cold tiles. He slot himself back into place, right where he belonged there. 

He started the shower the way they liked, just a shade too hot. He ground into Scott slowly, whispering promises into the most distracting mouth he’d ever seen, grinning the entire time.

Ice cream and curly fries and sloppy make outs in the Jeep with the windows down, and Lady Gaga playing too loud in the background - they were going to have that. Stiles still couldn’t quite believe it. Scott tasted like sunshine. Stiles couldn’t wait until he tasted like sugar.

“I _could_ suck so much.” Scott grinned wickedly, enjoying the way Stiles squirmed for escape and the annoyed squawking. Getting into the shower without falling was kind of a miracle and the wolf gasped as the hot water and cold of the tiles against his back made his skin tingle. With Stiles slowly grinding him hard again, milkshakes could wait just a little while longer while he took the time to appreciate the way his best friend felt, wet and insistent against him.  He sighed happily, letting his head lean back against the wall and rolling his hips lazily. He loved this, loved Stiles, loved everything with all of his heart. If everything he’d been through in his life was his way to earn this reward, it was so fucking worth it. He would do it all again without hesitation as long as it ended like this.

Scott still wasn’t going to share his milkshake.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing collaborative work/RP that has been fic-i-fied!
> 
> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics on [tumblr](http://tmautog.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and keep up with this story [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune/TruebornAlpha [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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